


The Ties that Bind

by Kittytoastnjam



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Child Abuse, Established Relationship, Fae & Fairies, Faeries Made Them Do It, Fairies are Jerks, Fear of Magic, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lack of Communication, M/M, Magic, Mostly Magic and Witches, Past Child Abuse, People Fear What Is Different, Pre-Relationship, This Witch is a Sweetie, nonlinear storytelling, relationships are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittytoastnjam/pseuds/Kittytoastnjam
Summary: “Death isn’t the worst fate a person can meet, but I can assure you, the pain you feel now is just a fraction of what you’ll feel if you keep going.”Daichi imagined what would be worse than the pain of losing Suga: Suga not missing, but dead; Suga unwilling to return; Suga in someone else’s arms. The thoughts continued, giving light to his fears. The table creaked beneath his fingertips as he dug his nails into the wood, his breath again short. His chest constricted so tight he felt his ribs may crush his lungs; death would be a reprieve from any of those realities.Daichi let the tears drip down his cheeks until they dried. When he had regained a semblance of composure, he rubbed his face in his sleeve and asked, “If I make it past the worst things, will I have him back?”“There’s a chance.”He released a stuttering breath, eyes closed and shoulders slumped. Then Daichi straightened, his jaw set and eyes firm. “Then I’ll do it.”
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	The Ties that Bind

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the realm of ambiguous mixed fantasy culture! If you’d like a soundtrack, this was heavily influenced by Lord Huron’s “When the Night is Over.” 
> 
> This story is an experiment with nonlinear storytelling. I really hope to get feedback on the format, if you are so inclined. Did it work better than a linear/chronological story? Did it add intrigue or just feel contrived? Was it confusing or do you feel like everything resolved/made sense/was there for a reason by the end? 
> 
> Brief disclaimer: I use “Summer/Winter Faerie” terms in lieu of Seelie/Unseelie. It’s a designation from D&D, tbh, but I like it. I think it makes it less specific to a real life region while conveying the same tone.
> 
> It’s a short section but trigger warning for child abuse: starts at, “What they stepped into was Daichi’s childhood bedroom,” and ends at the *** for section end.

Daichi gripped his bag in a white-knuckled grip and stared at the innocuous ring of stones nestled in the clover ahead of him. Amidst the grove of ash and yew it might have been difficult to find such an inconspicuous landmark, but Daichi had only become more committed to his search as time had passed. Try as they might, the Fae couldn’t hide from him forever, and that ring of stones meant he was one step closer. Because if the witch was to be believed, that ring was a door. Once he stepped foot through, he would pass the threshold from this world into the realm of the Fae. He heaved a steadying breath and exhaled with Suga’s name on his lips. Then he strode forward.

  
  


***

“He’s gone, Daichi,” Oikawa consoled, factual but not unkind. His slender hand rubbed a small circle on his shoulder, but Sawamura Daichi shrugged out of the taller man’s sympathy. 

“He isn’t gone,” Daichi hissed in response as he kneaded his red-ringed eyes. How many days had it been since he’d begun his search? Five? Seven, maybe more? It was easy to lose track when sleep eluded him more hours than it stayed. Sleepless or not, Daichi wasn’t going to abandon his hunt until Sugawara was back in his arms. Against his hip, his lantern sputtered and died as if only to spite him. He growled, ripped it from his belt, and smashed it into the frozen ground. 

Unfazed, Oikawa Tōru, the village leader and Suga’s closest friend, clasped Daichi’s shoulders firmly and steered him back toward the edge of town. “You think I like it any more than you do?” Oikawa asked as he directed Daichi along the path. The shorter man grunted, unable to find his voice. Nobody liked the fact that Sugawara was missing; everyone loved him. But no one loved him like Daichi did, because if they did they would be out here searching too. When Sawamura failed to respond, Tōru stopped and fixed Daichi with an unrelenting stare. “Daichi,” he said. “If the evidence points to the Fae, then there’s no coming back.” The crack in his voice as he finished his statement was testament enough to his own grief, however masked, but Daichi found himself incapable of caring. 

“He’s not gone,” Daichi reiterated, though his voice was scarcely more than a croak this time. “Tōru, he isn’t gone. He c-can’t be gone.” When Tōru surrounded him this time in a warm embrace, Daichi let him. The tears which he’d staunched all week trickled from his eyes and he buried his face into Tōru’s chest as it became a torrent. The taller man was mercifully quiet. 

He remembered little of their walk back to Oikawa’s home. Daichi was grateful, though, not to be forced to return to the barren shell of the house he shared with Sugawara Kōshi. Moments after Tōru had thrown a blanket over him, Daichi fell asleep, but his nightmare persisted into his dreams. He knew Kōshi was lost, could hear his voice calling out from the black forest. There was a blanket of stars overhead but no light reached his feet. He stumbled through the biting undergrowth, howling for Suga. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


_Daichi glowered, biting his lip. His eyes fell aside, away from where Suga stood with his arms folded across his chest. “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you?” Suga pressed._

_“Does it seem like there is?” Daichi countered._

_“Well, yes, kind of? You’ve just been quiet. Quieter than usual. And…” Suga trailed off, looking defeated and withholding whatever else he was going to say. “I don’t know.”_

_Daichi swiped his sweaty palms along his pants. He’d seen that look often on his partner's face as of late; he was scared to ask from where it stemmed. While anxiety saw him hold his tongue, he still owed an answer and murmured, “I don’t… there’s nothing wrong.” If anything, his reassurance only seemed to cause a flash of annoyance to cross Suga’s face. “Are you mad at me?” Daichi fretted._

_“I’m not mad,” Kōshi retorted, but to Daichi the answer came too abruptly for his comfort. The two fell into an uncomfortable quiet and resumed cleaning up the remnants of dinner. It wasn’t as though Daichi was angry either. Anger meant yelling and fists, and that would never be him. He’d sworn that to himself long ago, and especially never at Kōshi. It was just, at times, he wished— Daichi shook his head and Suga noticed with a raised eyebrow. “If you have something to say, then say it, Daichi,” he challenged._

_Daichi’s lips fell open, then shut. Instead of rising to the question he let his nervousness choke his feelings into silence, put on a lopsided smile, and said, “I love you.”_

_Suga smiled in return, but it looked worn at the edges. “I love you too,” he murmured. The strange distance between them remained as Suga glided to the door. “I just remembered- I needed to run something by Tōru for tomorrow. I’ll be back in a bit.”_

_After the door shut behind him, Daichi dropped his face into his hands and swallowed a shout. There was no denying the strain in Suga’s voice._

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


“He’s been crying out in his sleep. The last hour is the quietest he’s been in a while,” Daichi heard Tōru whisper, and something sick in him waited to hear what others were saying about him. He kept pretending. 

“Don’t wake him up,” a gruff voice advised. Ah, of course it was only Iwaizumi. “I don’t think he’s been sleeping.”

Oikawa sighed and after a brief rustling, he confessed in a voice that was thick and strained, “I don’t know what to do, Hajime. I loved Suga too, but I couldn’t imagine if—” The man stopped abruptly and then the two exchanged whispers to which Daichi wasn’t privy. He was too wrapped up in his own heartache to listen anyway, and he could fill in the blanks himself. Evident in the pitying stares of their neighbors was the rest of Tōru’s statement: _if it happened to me_. 

Others offered Daichi their condolences and advice on grieving the loss of his partner. Death was familiar enough; people died all the time. But Suga wasn’t dead and therein was the issue, because it left Daichi with a hope that no one else possessed. To everyone else, Sugawara Kōshi has already ceased to be. Dead and gone and, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I had lost someone so young. Daichi believed in being polite and patient, but being subjected to that _look_ made his skin crawl. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to pay tithe to that bitch at the solstice,” Oikawa snapped suddenly, though he was hushed right away by Iwaizumi. In a softer tone no less angry, he continued, “I can’t stand the idea that they’ll get away with this and nothing changes. Suga’s still… gone.” 

“We’ll figure something out,” Iwaizumi soothed. “I wouldn’t tell Daichi, though. He might take it the wrong way.” 

If he hadn’t been pretending to sleep, Daichi would have argued his own defense. His pulse quickened regardless, so he clenched his fists into the blanket and grit his teeth in an effort to keep his silence. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t understand having to meet the usual tithe to the Fae; there were other lives that depended on it. Daichi couldn’t be that selfish. What he hated was the ordinariness of it: Suga had been stolen from his life, but the lives of everyone else continued, leaving Daichi stagnating in the middle. 

The conversation had carried on in the time it took Daichi to regulate his breathing, and when he refocused, Oikawa was asking, “How long should we let him keep searching?”

“I don’t know, Tōru. It’s not like his trips into the woods are hurting anything,” Iwaizumi said. “I think if he starts eating and sleeping, it’s fine to let him do it. I’ll have him come stay with me for a while so I can keep an eye on him.”

“But for how long?” Oikawa insisted. 

“As long as it takes.” 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Where before eavesdropping Daichi burned with a frenzied desire to do something, he found himself despondent once he’d returned to the woods. Already he’d investigated the last place anyone had seen Suga. He’d spoken several times to the young lady who had reported seeing a number of will o’ wisps in the nights leading up to his disappearance, and same with the old man who’d heard the voice of a child crying out from the trees. It was all enough to point the finger at Fae trickery, but nothing when it came to getting Daichi any closer to them. The bastards were elusive at best, and it seemed actively trying to encounter them made them even scarcer. All their village knew were the basics to keeping Fae happy, not summoning or dealing with them.

When he noticed that he’d trudged the same path twice, Daichi sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands. It was cruel and unfair and exactly like the Fae of either the Summer or Winter Courts. One of the Queens allowed Suga to be spirited away, and he was no closer to discovering the truth than he had been nine days ago. The knowledge ripped open a gaping hole in his chest where savage heartache and total numbness vied for prominence. 

Never once had they done something to warrant the wrath of the Fae. In fact, Suga was one of the most consistent of the villagers in his daily offerings, never so much as whispering an ill word against them. “They’re fascinating!” Suga had once said. At the time, Daichi merely rolled his eyes, but he wondered if anything would be different now if he’d rebuked Suga’s claim. Perhaps his partner would’ve practiced more caution, but, no, that seemed too much like blaming Suga for his own kidnapping. It wasn’t Suga’s fault; it was the damned Fae. 

Daichi clenched his jaw and staggered to his feet once more, propelled by fury. There were swathes of forest still withholding answers. 

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


_He jolted into wakefulness at the gentle gasp of his name, and rolled to his side where Suga lay trembling. With a gentle sigh, Daichi threw an arm over Suga’s waist and drew him into his chest. “Suga,” he murmured. “You’re having a nightmare.” The whisper of his voice saw the other man relax after a moment of confused and unintelligible noises._

_“Oh. Sorry I woke you,” Suga finally breathed._

_Daichi’s hand had come to rest against Suga’s chest, and he could feel how his heart still hammered against his ribs. He pressed a kiss to the scar on Suga’s shoulder which he’d had a hand in making a year ago, then nestled his face into the nape of his neck. Once the pace of Suga’s heart slowed, he finally asked, “Wanna talk about it?”_

_The other man was quiet, but Daichi could tell he hadn’t fallen asleep. Still too tense, against his chest. It was a moment before Suga finally said, “I was being ch-chased through town by a man in a mask. And the town, it looked like this one but I knew it wasn’t. Every time I hid they found me until I realized they’d decided just to set the town on fire. And then it_ **_was_ ** _this town and I didn’t know where you were and—”_

_“Suga,” Daichi shushed as his partner began to escalate. “It’s a bad dream.”_

_“But what if it happens?” Suga whimpered as he turned to clench his fists into the front of Daichi’s shirt._

_Daichi frowned into Suga’s silvery bangs. Suga was rattled, clinging to dream logic, but the genuine fear in his tone still made Daichi consider. It wasn’t something that bothered him, but he knew little of what brought Kōshi to this place aside from the obvious: he’d been pursued, attacked, left for dead. Whatever he’d experienced before that was enough to make him believe it’d happen again, even in the dredges of sleep and subconscious. Briefly, Daichi tightened his hold on Suga’s back, then gently unwound Suga’s hands from his shirt and entwined their fingers. “It was a dream,” he reminded them both as he kissed white knuckles. Even if it were somehow true, it didn’t matter what kind of potential danger lurked outside Suga’s dreams. Sugawara Kōshi was woven into Daichi’s veins; there was no running for him either._

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


What Daichi noticed first was the emerald sun. The Fae realm was cast in a verdant glow despite that a mild winter had stolen the leaves from the trees. Even so, it was lacking in warmth, and Daichi pulled his coat tighter around himself. 

The second thing which Daichi noticed was the thin, golden thread that had sprouted from the witch’s bracelet, softly glowing and leading away from the gate. It whispered Suga’s name, or, perhaps that was only Daichi’s excitement getting the better of him. It did compel urgency to his steps, though. He took off at a jog, following the lead.

Time passed strangely, or, it didn’t pass at all. The emerald star in the sky was in the same middling spot on the horizon as it was when he’d entered, but the golden thread from his wrist grew steadily more solid, now buzzing pleasantly against his skin while his whole body thrummed with anticipation. 

When he’d traveled long enough that he was forced to slow to a walk, he realized he wasn’t alone. 

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


Daichi glanced uneasily between Hajime and Tōru, who were locked in some kind of silent argument that only people who’ve known each other their entire lives could manage. He wasn’t even sure how they’d reached this point: he and Hajime had been having dinner, Tōru strolled in, words were exchanged about Daichi’s dwindling hope for a lead in Suga’s search, and then the two had begun their angry glaring. 

The quiet tension was only doubled by Tōru speaking, a barked, “No, Hajime.” 

“No?” Daichi echoed. 

Hajime’s uneasy eyes darted between them. Despite Tōru’s glowering, he landed on Daichi and murmured, “I might have a lead.”

In two steps Oikawa crossed the room and slammed a hand on the table. “Iwaizumi Hajime we talked about this,” he growled. “You _promised._ ”

But Hajime was both accustomed to and unfazed by Tōru’s fervent exclamations, even if the sudden slam had seen Daichi jump in his seat. With eyes locked on Daichi, Hajime said, “There’s a witch nearby that might be able to help you find Suga.” 

Daichi’s eyes went wide as Tōru’s narrowed, and he gasped, “A witch? How do you know?” Already the wheels in his head were turning: a witch could do magic, and surely there was magic that could point him in Suga’s direction. 

“It’s just a rumor,” Tōru replied through gritted teeth. 

Hajime, though, was avoiding Tōru’s pointed gaze and dropped his own eyes to Daichi’s feet. “We met him once. Me and Tōru.” 

The admission stung, taking him from his formulating plans. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Daichi breathed, unable to keep the hurt from his tone. “It’s been a _month_!” 

“Because no one was supposed to know about him,” Tōru hissed. “Not even you for Suga’s sake. Witches are _dangerous_ and we already… I don’t want people knowing there’s one so close.”

Hajime glanced up wearing an apologetic frown and replied softly, “I’m sorry, Daichi. I should have told you sooner.” 

“No! You shouldn’t have told him ever!” Tōru shouted. For a man who kept his emotions guarded behind smiles, he looked furious. “What the hell, Hajime? You know he’s going to try and find him now! What if something happens to him?”

“What I choose to do with the information is just that: my choice,” Daichi refuted quietly. He clenched his fingers in his lap and tried to breathe. He hated yelling. “It isn’t fair for you to keep something like this from me to try and protect me from something you don’t even know will be dangerous.” 

But that seemed only to infuriate Tōru further, if the red cast to his livid face was any indication. “You _stupid-_ Daichi, you need to give this up!” Tōru snapped. The intensity of it made Daichi flinch, but the village leader wasn’t finished. “Do you really want to throw your life away on this? Do you think Suga would want that? Do you think Hajime won’t blame himself if you go off and get yourself killed hunting a witch! We already lost one person; you’re being _selfish_!”

Hajime was on his feet, hands clenched in trembling fists as he went toe to toe with his childhood friend and roared, “That’s enough, Tōru! You don’t get to decide that for everyone!” 

Unflinching, Tōru rolled his eyes and prodded Hajime’s chest. “But I know you! You’ve already been too nice to say anything about his obsession with finding Suga! He’ll never grieve if you just keep giving him false hope, and now he’s going to get himself killed! All you’re doing is helping him run away from reality: Suga is _dead_!” 

“Suga’s not dead!” Tōru’s words jabbed at the part of Daichi still raw and he felt as feral as a wounded animal as he, too, lurched to his feet. His vision was blurry with tears but it didn’t bar him from howling, “Quit saying he’s dead!”

He was aware of Hajime turning toward him, a hand- trembling- coming to rest on his shoulder. “Daichi, I’m sorry. You don’t have to listen to this,” the man murmured, though his voice sounded scratchy and tight. Daichi gnawed at his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut after gripping Hajime’s arm for support. 

When he finally blinked open his eyes, Daichi met Oikawa’s gaze over Hajime’s shoulder. There was a wild fury in their depths, something that sent cold dread settling into Daichi’s stomach. He opened his mouth to offer something mild and apologetic, but Tōru beat him to it. “Did you break our promise just to spite me, Hajime?” Tōru sneered at Hajime’s back. “Because I don’t love you the way you want?”

Three pairs of eyes went wide. Hajime recoiled like he’d been slapped. The moment the words left him, Tōru blanched and his anger fled him. “I-I— Hajime,” Tōru stammered from behind the hand he’d thrown over his mouth. His brown eyes were impossibly wide, darting between Hajime, who was hunched with his shoulders drawn, and Daichi who had moved to place a protective hand on his back. “I didn’t mean that,” Tōru continued, a note of panic bleeding into his tone. “Hajime—“

While he pleaded, Hajime straightened and set his jaw. Close as they were, Daichi could see the embarrassed flush on his friend’s cheeks, the glassy quality to his eyes. But his voice was steady when he turned around and said, “Get out of my house.” 

“W-wait—”

“ _Oikawa_ ,” Hajime whispered. “Please leave.” 

To his credit, Tōru knew he had made a mistake and only nodded mutely before turning. The entire interaction left Daichi dazed: with a guiding hand, he herded them both into collapsing on Hajime’s bed. There was a long time where the two said nothing: Haijime composed himself stiffly at the foot of his bed and Daichi wracked his mind for the words that would make this better. “What Tōru said about you blaming yourself if I got hurt,” he finally said. Even his whisper made Hajime wince. “If something did happen to me, I would never think it was your fault for telling me about the witch. You can’t blame yourself.” 

The other man didn’t speak but he did lean close enough for their shoulders to touch. After a few moments, Hajime asked, voice raspy and thick, “That means you already decided to find him. The witch.” 

“I… want to,” Daichi admitted, but when his friend only sighed, he continued, “but I don’t want to hurt you either. You’re my best friend, so I—“ 

“You and Suga have something special,” Hajime interrupted. Daichi almost retorted out of modesty, but when he looked at the man beside him he swallowed his words. Hajime, who never appeared anything less than solid, was hunched in on himself like being upright was no longer feasible. There was a vacant look in his eyes, out of place on the normally dauntless man, and Daichi reached to touch his shoulder in an effort to erase it. Hajime flinched before his hand even made contact, though it did serve to snap life back into his face. 

“Hajime?” Daichi prompted as he drew his hand back to his chest. 

Hajime inhaled, slowly, then sighed, “Most people spend their whole lives hoping for what you and Suga had and never even come close. If I—” His voice wavered, cracked, and he collapsed a little more into himself, but Daichi didn’t dare move. “If I had someone who looked at me like Suga looks at you,” Hajime finally managed, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do. So I’m not going to be the one to tell you to give up. I should’ve told you sooner, but Tōru—” 

The name pulled a whimper from Hajime’s throat that was no less wretched in its quietness. Even as his own eyes stung in part from relief to finally have a direction, Daichi’s heart ached for the pain of his closest friend. The way Hajime loved Tōru wasn’t something they talked about. It was subtext in the way Hajime spoke about him, obvious in the way he supported Tōru wholly. He must have finally put it to words, and it couldn’t have been long ago, either. Something Daichi had missed in the haze of despair that had overcome his life. “I’m sorry,” Daichi murmured as he wrapped an arm around Hajime’s slumped shoulders. His friend leaned into the embrace this time while he tried in vain to keep Daichi from seeing the tears unshed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hajime.” 

“S’okay,” the man mumbled between silent, repressed sobs. “Should’ve known better.”

Daichi thought of something he’d been told many, many years ago when he was far too young to understand. All he’d known at six was that it wasn’t fair for either of them to cry so much because of his dad. Holding Hajime in his arms, he repeated what she told him, “You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with.” 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


_A knock on the door startled Daichi from his dinner and he was on his feet in seconds. “Hajime found a man in the woods a couple of miles from here,” Oikawa, a young merchant, blurted the moment the door swung open. “He’s got an arrow in his shoulder. I think it’s infected.”_

_It was just enough information for Daichi to gather the items he needed, left to him by the town’s regular doctor, an older man everyone simply called ‘Sensei,’ who was away to the city for supplies. Knowing he was on his own, barely twenty-three, half-trained and unprepared for a real emergency, was enough to make Daichi want to throw up. It was just his luck: this sleepy little village rarely had emergencies, and rarer still was a wayward traveler. Something about its location made it difficult to stumble into. Of course Daichi would be blessed with both things._

_He didn’t trust his roiling stomach and pounding heart, so Daichi was silent as he followed Oikawa at a jog over to the little house that served as a place to quarantine the sick. Warm light beckoned but he had to resist the urge to dig in his heels on the threshold. He took a soft, steadying breath as the firelight spilled from the opened door, then he crossed inside to see what the evening had brought them._

_Iwaizumi had laid the poor man stomach-down on the table, his face to the opposite wall. Daichi could see his breathing was labored, his back rising and falling too quickly from beneath his traveling cloak. It was the right shoulder where the long wooden arrow shaft protruded, nearly the length of Daichi’s forearm with the fletching still present. He reached to press the back of his hand to the man’s forehead, which was hidden behind the most silvery blond hair Daichi had ever seen. Burning up. Gently he prodded around the arrow shaft, pulling back red stained fingertips when the man groaned. It settled Daichi’s thoughts: the short-lived terror of the unknown faded, replaced by a tangible course of action. He called for the items he still needed and pulled razor sharp shears from his bag. “I’ll have to cut off your clothes, so please don’t move,” he said apologetically as he began to work. It wasn’t as though the man was responsive; he was likely delirious with fever. It made Daichi feel better as he worked, though, to give voice to his actions._

_He set to work cutting, then let out a curious hum at the pale skin revealed under hand. How had someone who could afford a life out of the sun come to be here with an arrow in his back? “Help me roll him onto his side, Iwaizumi,” Daichi murmured. They tried not to jostle the angry wound too much, but the man barked out another moan followed by the breathy gasps of someone very much awake and trying not to cry. “Got to see if the arrowhead came through the other side,” he explained, though he sucked in a breath when they’d succeeded. “Were you going to try and take this out?” he scolded. The arrow actually had gone straight through the man’s shoulder, but where the head would have been the shaft was splintered wood._

_“Hurts,” came the thin voice of his patient._

_“I’ll bet it does,” Daichi replied drily as he set about cleaning both sides of the wound and applying poultice he’d asked Oikawa to retrieve for him amongst the supplies. “You have no idea how lucky you are that this went straight through. You’d probably be dead already otherwise.” The man coughed out something that could have been a laugh or whimper. “I just need to smooth out the ends of the arrow before I try to push it out,” Daichi said. “Just lay there and try not to move, alright?”_

_“Easy,” his patient croaked, an attempt at humor that brought a wry smile to Daichi’s face. He didn’t speak anymore as he worked, only offering the occasional apology or encouragement for each action of his that wrangled a noise from the injured man. By the time Daichi was braced to ease the arrow from the man’s shoulder, he’d developed a treatment plan he hoped would get the man through the night, until the doctor returned. The wound was red and bruised looking at its entry, but infection had taken root on both sides, too. He’d have to drain it and clean it again before packing it with more of the compound the doctor had prepared for blood infections. As far as his knowledge went, that was all he could do._

_When he’d finished his work, Daichi shared a look with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and sighed, “That’s all I’ve got. If he makes it, then Sensei can take over tomorrow. I can stay with him until then.”_

_Iwaizumi, who was pale as a sheet during the entire ordeal, nodded eagerly before rushing from the house. Oikawa lingered a few more moments to fuss over the pack of belongings the stranger had been toting. He set aside a beautifully patterned yukata that was folded atop a few books. Daichi raised an eyebrow: he’d only been taught to read and write his name and a few other essentials; he couldn’t fathom reading an entire book. At the bottom though, beneath the clothing, books, and pouch of money, Oikawa pulled a dagger. The blade barely whispered as he slid it from the sheath, the straight, black metal smooth and clear and filed to a razor’s edge. Oikawa furrowed his brow at the puzzle before him, then resheathed the weapon and placed it in his belt. “I’ll take this just to be on the safe side,” he muttered before he, too, stalked into the night._

_Alone, Daichi began to clean up the mess of strewn supplies. The man’s breathing had evened a little, slower and less strained. They’d left him propped up on his side with his arm strapped to his chest, so the wound wouldn’t be aggravated by movement, but he’d need to be transferred to a bed. Crouching so he could be eye level, Daichi brushed the hair from the man’s face, intending to ask if he could move with help, but the words died in his throat. Even with a feverish glow and sleep deprived eyes, the man, framed by soft starlight hair, was beautiful. There was a mole by his left eye, mirroring the smattering Daichi had seen across his back, and it shifted slightly as hazel eyes, glassy and unfocused, cracked open to meet Daichi’s stunned gaze._

_“‘M I dead?” the man whispered._

_Daichi’s face contorted as he tried to restrain a smile. “Not yet. If I help you, do you think you could make it over to the bed?”_

_The man nodded, and with more care than he’d ever given to anything before in his life, Daichi helped him into sitting. They paused so the stranger could catch his breath, then Daichi coaxed him onto unsteady feet, taking the brunt of the man’s weight as they staggered to the bed. When finally he’d managed to get him nestled into the blankets, Daichi couldn’t help but marvel at the soft splay of silvery waves against the pillow. He’d never seen hair so light. His fingers lingered in it a moment, before he placed a cool cloth against the man’s forehead. “Do you have a name?” he asked._

_As he drifted into sleep, the man sighed, “Suga.”_

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Oikawa flailed uselessly behind Daichi as he threw items into a bag. “Sawamura,” he pleaded, thin fingers wrapping around the strap of his pack. “This is ridiculous. I’ve been understanding of your trips into the forest, but I have to draw the line somewhere! This could be really dangerous. We don’t know anything about this… _witch_.” 

Despite the fight last night at Hajime’s house, Daichi could appreciate that Tōru was trying to stop him. It told him that it was something the mercurial village leader must actually believe was important. It didn’t, however, slow Daichi in the slightest. With a gentleness he didn’t feel he owed Oikawa, he unfolded the man’s fingers and shouldered his bag. “You made it clear yesterday what you think about it. I know it could be dangerous, but it could get me answers. You won’t change my mind,” Daichi said. 

Rather than baiting him into anger, a surprising vulnerability washed over Tōru. He looked and sounded small as he whispered, “Suga always wanted you to be safe.”

 _Ah._ It made sudden sense how fixated on guilty feelings Tōru had been during that argument. He wasn’t just concerned about Hajime’s reactions, but his own. The frown on Daichi’s face softened; Tōru noticed and averted his gaze with a false nonchalance. “It’s not on either of you for telling me about this,” Daichi repeated. “But you can take credit for it if it goes well.” A weak, lopsided smile pulled at Tōru’s lips, though it did little to ease the signs of exhaustion on his face. Before the man could retort, Daichi added gently, “Will you please talk to Hajime while I’m gone?”

At the mention of Iwaizumi’s name Tōru stiffened and could not repress the grimace on his face. “What I said was beyond fucked up,” he admitted. “He’s not going to want to talk.”

“When I said talk I meant beg for forgiveness,” Daichi amended. He took advantage of Oikawa’s ensuing silence to check over his supplies: food, matches and oil, a spare lantern, his good knife. He’d have his sword on his hip just in case, but supposedly the witch wasn’t far. The tricky thing, he’d managed to wrangle from Hajime, was that he was impossible to find if he didn’t want visitors. Tōru still hadn’t said anything, content to watch Daichi pack, but Daichi didn’t want to stay in the empty house he and Suga called home longer than he had to. “Is there anything else, Oikawa? The sun’s coming up.” 

The village leader heaved a sigh and hung his head with a small shake. Like a chastised dog he followed on Daichi’s heels as he locked up the house, finally muttering, “Good luck. Please be careful.” The tall man caught Daichi by the elbow as he turned, and quietly added, “I’m sorry, too.”

It sent Daichi off with a tired but genuine smile on his face. 

He only had a vague idea where to begin his trek based on Hajime’s guess from his interaction with the witch. No names had been exchanged, but Daichi knew he was looking for a man, slim and tall, with dark hair, blue eyes and unnerving calm. The witch himself would be unmistakable; the problem was finding him. Daichi began his hike heading away from the rising sun. 

There was little to nothing that Daichi knew about magic. In small villages it was rare. Magic had to be practiced, and when survival meant working there was no time for unrelated pursuits. He’d even come from a village larger than this one and he’d never heard of someone encountering a witch. With humble origins such as his, Daichi considered the art of medicine and healing to be magic enough for him. He recalled Suga’s ongoing fascination with all things mystical, and it brought a little smile to his face. Often when they were alone at the end of the day, Suga would ramble about learning magic and the things he’d use it for- though he’d usually say the most ridiculous things just to get Daichi to laugh.

As quickly as it made him smile did the thought renew the painful twinge in his chest. Spirits above, he missed that man. Yearning to find Suga guided Daichi’s steps like instinct… except, no, there was something else that was directing him. Not an abstract idea, but something tangible, like a fisherman’s hook was lodged in his ribs and was reeling him to an unknown destination. Daichi’s breath caught in his throat and the same instinct that was telling him this wasn’t natural wanted him to follow. The pull was insistent, nagging, and Daichi increased his pace through the trees, losing track of time and breath as he walked, then jogged, then ran. The pressure in his chest built and built as he adjusted his course until he thought it had forced all the air from his lungs. He was sprinting, breath coming too short and fast when he stumbled past a break in the trees. 

There was a small cottage tucked in the clearing into which he’d entered and the sight of it restored him. Daichi fell to his knees, fingers digging into the dirt while his chest heaved. He knew- the same way he knew that the sun would set and rise- that this was the place for which he searched. The little house was stone and wood, laced in ivy and flowering vines. An expansive garden flanked it on all sides, inviting him to peruse the plants, but his eyes rose to the bright red door and the feeling that had drawn him here gave one last tug. The man inhaled and shakily rose to his feet. 

When he raised his fist to knock, the door swung open before he could. The stoic countenance of a man greeted him and Daichi dropped his hand to his side. Wordlessly the stranger inclined a head topped with dark, curly hair shorn short and said, “Come in.” 

“Just like that?” Daichi puzzled aloud. The man, already returning to the hearth, gave Daichi an exasperated look over his shoulder, so he followed behind and resisted the urge to duck his head like he’d been scolded. A glance around the home revealed that it was quite normal- at first. The plants which dotted the window sills were utterly foreign to Daichi, and interspersed among the shelved books were jars of mystery substances labeled in an unknown language. A small fire warmed the house, but the hearth was empty of wood. Daichi swallowed back the sudden urge to gasp and hazarded a soft, “You’re the witch I’m looking for.” 

The man, who had busied himself producing two mugs, gestured at Daichi to sit at the rough hewn table near the hearth. “You can call me Akaashi,” he stated, cradling his cup and taking a sip. 

Warily, Daichi pulled out a chair and sat, but he looked suspiciously at the steaming mug in front of him. “Akaashi,” he repeated. “How did I come to be here.” 

“I assume you walked. Or ran, by the state of you.” 

“That- that’s not what I mean!” the flustered man groused. “Something _pulled_ me here. I couldn’t ignore it. Did you do that?” 

Akaashi took a long draw from his cup and offered a serene smile that managed to look smug. “Does it really matter how you got here? You must have wanted it, so here you are.” 

It was exactly the kind of mystical bullshit answer over which Suga would have mooned. It made Daichi scowl. He pushed to his feet, hissing, “I don’t have time for this.” 

“You’re looking for someone,” Akaashi said. 

It wasn’t a question, and it made Daichi seethe and growl a statement of his own. “You know something.” 

“I know how to find things that are lost,” Akaashi corrected. “And the only people who come to me are people who have lost things. How far are you willing to go in your search?”

The question prodded at his raw heart. Daichi grimaced, and answered, “As far as I have to. I’ll do anything.”

“Maybe you’ll die.” 

“Death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person,” Daichi snapped. His exclamation startled him into raising his eyes from the floor, an apology on his lips, but Akaashi nodded and gestured again for him to sit. Weary, he did. For a short time, neither said anything: Akaashi sipping from his mug and Daichi tracing patterns in the wood grain. The mysterious man set down his drink, the noise drawing Daichi’s attention, but there was something magnetic about Akaashi’s eyes this time. The ocean swirl pinned his own in place, sharp in a way that made him feel seen through, exposed. He shuddered involuntarily, Akaashi blinked, and Daichi felt once more that he could move. 

“Death isn’t the worst fate a person can meet,” the other man finally agreed. “But I can assure you, the pain you feel now is just a fraction of what you’ll feel if you keep going.” 

The sincerity in Akaashi’s tone bade Daichi to consider. He imagined what would be worse than the pain of losing Suga, his stomach turning with displeasure. It was not something about which he’d thought since this waking nightmare began, and he surprised himself when he realized he _could_ imagine worse: Suga not missing, but dead; Suga unwilling to return; Suga in someone else’s arms. The thoughts continued, giving light to his worst fears. The table creaked beneath his fingertips as he dug his nails into the wood, his breath again short. His chest constricted so tight he felt his ribs may crush his lungs; death would be a reprieve from any of those realities. 

A gentle hand came to rest on his and dragged him abruptly from his spiral. He met Akaashi’s gaze, blurry because at some point he’d begun to cry. “You can turn back,” the man advised, his smile understanding. “It will hurt but you will survive.” 

Daichi let the tears drip down his cheeks until they dried. When he had regained a semblance of composure, he rubbed his face in his sleeve and asked, “If I make it past the worst things, will I have him back?”

“There’s a chance.” 

He released a stuttering breath, eyes closed and shoulders slumped. Then Daichi straightened, his jaw set and eyes firm. “Then I’ll do it.” 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


_There were times when a particular look would come over Kōshi’s face. It was something hard to place, but after three years as a couple, Daichi decided it was a look of disappointment. Of course, he wasn’t so obtuse to his partner’s feelings that he didn’t notice it before. It was one thing for him to express his disappointment about a minor inconvenience- Daichi being called away to help someone, for example. But there were times when Kōshi would gaze out the window with such a look on his face, when he thought Daichi wasn’t looking._

_It was a terrifying expression. They had learned and were still learning how to talk to each other, still discovering in the clumsy way of newer relationships. Daichi had never asked about Kōshi’s past, because he’d seen the look he’d get when other people asked. Ultimately, he told himself he didn’t care what he’d been running from when Iwaizumi found him passed out in the woods. However, his worst fears bubbled forth every time he saw Kōshi with that look on his face, and he was scared to ask why he wore it._

_It was obvious wherever Suga had come from, he’d been wealthy. He still possessed a bag full of money, more than they ever needed, more than Daichi had ever seen all at once. The yukata he only wore for special occasions was pristine and he went to great lengths to keep it that way. There was the black dagger, too. He didn’t know why Kōshi would have needed a weapon like that, but he knew it, too, was a quality piece._

_So, Daichi’s mind supplied unhelpfully, the reason for Kōshi’s disappointment was him. He would happily give up anything for the man he loved, but none of it would ever amount to the sort of life to which Kōshi must have been accustomed. It had to be disappointing: now that a couple of years had passed and they’d settled into a comfortable routine, he must be realizing that this was all that was in store for him if he stayed: a plain man and an even more plain life._

_Daichi was a coward. He couldn’t ask if that was the reason for Suga’s disappointment, because he feared his heart would break at the answer._

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


It was under his own volition that Daichi marched into the high court of the Summer Queen of the Fae. He might’ve been flanked by an entourage of creatures straight from the tales, but none would touch him. It seemed Akaashi’s bracelet was doing its job, but he wasn’t any less intimidated. He didn’t show it, but the way they eyed him- with predatory interest- Daichi wondered if they knew anyway. He stowed his hands in his pockets to conceal the magic which had led him here.

The number of creatures called to court swelled in the time he stood waiting for the Queen. He did not stare openly at anything but the foot of the throne, a twisted yew that rose from the grassy dais. The throne room to which he’d been ushered matched the natural seat: flowering trees that arched overhead with ribbons trailing down; colorful fairy lights which cast strange shadows; the emerald sun positioned just so in the sky to look like a jewel at the apex of the throne. Around him the faerie chattered in a language he didn’t recognize, lilting but punctuated with throaty notes. From his periphery they danced around him, some towering over him and others no taller than his hands, all trying to prod some level of interest from him. His stoicism was rewarded when a hush fell over the busy court. 

Even without looking directly, he could see that the Queen of the Summer Court was beautiful. She strode in from the trees on long bronze legs swathed in gossamer skirts. Dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, past the iridescent dragonfly wings folded down her bare back. Curiosity begged him to lift his gaze to finish the picture, but Daichi took a steadying breath and kept his eyes low. As soon as she took her place, the yew throne flowered in the winter air.

“What brings a human to my court?” she called. He jumped a little at the sudden sound of language he understood.

With Akaashi’s guidance, Daichi had been turning the words over and over in his head: clear but unassuming, non accusatory, respectful. _You have to play their game_. “I’m here to take home my partner, who seems to have gotten lost,” he replied. 

“And why would you think he’s here?” 

“There’s nowhere else he could be,” he answered truthfully. Not blaming, and not referencing Akaashi’s role. Not shouting like he wanted, _Because you stole him._

There was a sharp smattering of whispers around him, but the Queen lifted one slender, clawed hand and silence fell again. “If you believe your partner has ventured here, I’ll need his name and yours to find him.” 

Daichi had to restrain an eye roll and murmured, “I’m told that exchanging names is a dangerous business,” instead of, _I’m not stupid enough to fall for that._

There was amusement in her tone, at least, when the Queen replied, “Well, I’m not sure what you expect of me,” she commented airily. “Humans go by names so I would need a name, would I not?”

Even in a pit of vipers, Daichi couldn’t help the softness in his voice as he replied, “You don’t, because even you would remember a face like his. He’s unmistakable: a mole by his left eye and hair that’s ashen blond.” 

As he finished speaking the very atmosphere of the court grew thick with tension, the silence somehow heavier than moments before. The Queen dug her pointed nails in the bark of her chair, the first uncontrolled thing Daichi had seen so far. Not that he had doubted Akaashi’s magic to lead him where he was needed, but that singular response told him everything he needed to know. Suga was so _close_. _Play the game_ , he told himself, a mantra to try and soothe the wild demands of his heart to scream for Suga to be brought to him. When Daichi saw the Queen step down from the throne he dropped his gaze even lower, and soon her bare feet were in his vision. “Maybe I’m not inclined to let him leave,” she informed him. “Can you tell me why something as ugly as yourself is more deserving of his beauty than _me_? Look at me.”

Her command rippled through him like a rock in a pond and Daichi trembled. Still, he kept his eyes on the ground, afraid of what he would see if he obeyed. His voice sounded foreign and far more sure than he felt when instead he asked, “Are you willing to make a wager for his return?”

Daichi could feel the oppressive weight of every Fae’s eyes on him, and for one terrifying moment he feared he’d made a mistake. Air seemed difficult to come by and his knees began to weaken accordingly as his insides began to liquify. Then the Queen let out a quiet laugh, a mirthless, smug noise that signified the immediate danger had passed. “I can’t resist a wager,” she grinned. “What are the terms?”

“Before that, I think it would be fair for me to see him,” Daichi blurted. “T-To make sure it’s him.” 

“I’ll allow it,” she said with a gesture of her hand as if motioning someone towards her. 

Finally, Daichi lifted his eyes and a soft whimper left his lips. The uncertainty, heartache, and weakened friendships of the last month faded into the background, and Daichi was transported to the first moment he’d laid eyes on Sugawara Kōshi. His worn, drab clothes had been exchanged for blue silk that was draped artfully around him and pinned in place with copper and gemstone jewelry. It was strange to Daichi, to whom clothing was meant to be functional. Seeing his partner trussed up and displayed like a trophy for someone that wasn’t him, though- Daichi’s blood boiled. Suga’s milky skin had been scrubbed clean, but in the light of an emerald star, he looked sickly and out of place. The unfavorable circumstances of their meetings aside- an emerald glow or a feverish sheen- Suga was still beautiful. _He doesn’t belong her_ , Daichi thought as his partner turned adoring hazel eyes to the Faerie Queen, and it was followed by, _He really is too beautiful for me_.

Warnings about what might’ve happened to Suga couldn’t prepare Daichi for when his beloved met his eyes with a vacant stare lacking familiarity. There was no reunion or embrace, and the only tears belonged to Daichi. He realized he’d been lucky to have known the ache of losing him over time. It had seeped into his life and tainted everything, but he’d grown accustomed to it. To look Suga in the face and see no trace of the person he loved- who loved him- was torture. 

With shaking hands Daichi reached for him on instinct, but the Faerie Queen curled her claws into starlight hair and dragged her enthralled subject from his reach. “The wager,” she reminded sweetly with a sharp-toothed grin and wide, black eyes, and it was the lifeline that saved Daichi from drowning. His teeth bit crescents into his bottom lip until he tasted copper, but the physical sensation drew him gasping from the ocean of his grief. He’d come here for a chance; it was time to take it. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


“Love is conditional,” Akaashi said as he flipped Suga’s comb over in his hands. “A good relationship is like a contract you both sign knowing the other will have terms you must agree to.”

They’d settled on a pair of magic bracelets, one of which would guide Daichi to where Suga was in the Fae realm and the other which would go on Suga’s wrist if Daichi were to succeed in rescuing him. All Akaashi had requested was a few strands of Suga’s hair. Daichi wrinkled his nose in thought as Akaashi carefully extricated a few starlight strands. “That sounds impersonal,” he admitted.

The corner of the witch’s mouth quirked at his response. “It doesn’t ever happen so dispassionately, but it doesn’t change what it is.” 

Akaashi placed the longest strands of hair on a dark cloth, starkly contrasting lines. Careful not to disturb the table, he glided to his feet and began to rummage at his desk while Daichi turned over his words in his head. “Can you give me an example?” he asked, trying to push aside the embarrassment which wanted to seal his lips. _Stupid country boy_ , his scathing mind supplied. Kōshi was the smarter one between them when it came to abstracts; he would’ve understood what Akaashi meant. 

There was something kind in Akaashi’s sharp eyes when he turned back to the table with a small spool of metal wire clutched in his elegant hand. Daichi wondered if the witch would comment on his lack of understanding but he simply nodded as he gently placed the item on the table before returning to his desk. “The longer you know someone, the more of them you see,” he began. Daichi made a noise of understanding. “There are some things which are painful to show another person, but when you’ve been together too long it becomes impossible to hide.”

Daichi‘s heart jumped to his throat as the barest understanding touched his thoughts. “So you have to trust that the other person accepts those things.” 

The witch hummed his agreement and returned again to the table, this time with a small pair of sewing shears, a bundle of leather cord, a piece of pressed charcoal and a few sheets of parchment. Wearing a pensive look, he folded his hands together in the space between them. “Yes. And what is trust but the terms of a contract? You might never sit and discuss it, but you learn it all the same. If you violate those terms, that _trust_ , it can become what destroys a relationship. That trust can be broken with one large blow, but often it happens over time. A thousand small cuts that lead to the death of something that might look solid.” His face looked suddenly pointed and knowing, and Daichi turned his eyes elsewhere. 

His gaze became lost somewhere in the middle distance as he considered, twisting his fingers idly together. In a low voice, he admitted, “Kōshi and I didn’t talk about things like that, or not often, I think. I mean, I trust him, but maybe he didn’t trust me.”

“I wouldn’t say that at all,” Akaashi argued lightly. “You don’t gift years of your life or agree to live with them without a large degree of trust. Undoubtedly there are things he told you, that you learned and accepted, without it ever being put to words.” His beautiful face, stoic as it was, became somehow more serious. “Those are things only you would know, and you must believe in the trust he had in you, and the trust you have in him. The Fae will try and manipulate any doubts either of you had in order to turn you away from your goal.” 

Daich answered with a solemn nod, earning Akaashi’s approval. “If you understand, then I will start on this charm. I need some of your hair,” he said. 

“Just my hair,” he verified, eyeing the razor sharp shears. 

The smile that tugged at Akaashi’s lips now was teasing. “Unless you’d prefer to donate your blood. Either work for this spell.” 

Daichi paled and leaned forward to allow Akaashi to snip a small chunk of his short hair, which he then sprinkled along one of the pieces of paper. “I needed something of you both in order to create a binding charm,” he explained before Daichi could ask. “If your partner is under a thrall, you will need to retrieve his mind. This spell will let you find him, but also acts as the tether to your body. Don’t _ever_ take it off. The Fae will certainly try to trick you into doing so.” 

“What if they try and take it?” Daichi worried. 

Akaashi gestured to the wire. “This will be woven in. Pure iron. They won’t be able to touch it.” 

Akaashi began to arrange his ingredients, but Daichi couldn’t help but blurt, “Why are you helping me?”

The witch’s hands stilled and his impassive face turned wistful. After a moment where his eyes seemed lost in a different time, he alighted on Daichi’s face and offered a sad smile. “Because I know what it means to have something you love stolen by the Fae,” was all he said in a tone that begged no more questions. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


_They’d spent a lot of time together in the six months he’d been here, but Daichi had never seen Suga so angry. He’d stormed into Daichi’s house fuming, his pale cheeks glowing red and eyes brimming with frustration. Even if it wasn’t directed towards him, everything about the outward anger of people he cared for set Daichi on edge._

_“I can’t believe that fucking guy,” the other man shouted as he stomped into the kitchen and threw himself into the empty chair beside Daichi. He had to tell himself to drop his shoulders from his ears before Suga noticed his hunched position._

_“Who?” he asked. His voice was steady and he dug his fingers into his thighs to ground himself._

_“Oikawa fucking Tōru,” Suga seethed. He’d just sat, but he jolted to his feet with a startling scrape of the chair against the floor that made Daichi’s heart leap into his throat. “This bastard has been saying for months he didn’t know what happened to my stuff and he’s had it this whole fucking time!” Daichi hummed his acknowledgment, but to his horror Suga whirled in his direction. “Did you know?” he snapped_

_Wide-eyed, Daichi shifted his eyes somewhere safe: the window behind Suga’s head. “I-I’m sorry,” he offered, pleaded._

_Suga flung his hands skyward as he continued his rant. Logically, Daichi knew he was just venting his frustration; Suga was expressive that way. Daichi knew this, but it didn’t stop the full-body flinch, that ingrained desperation to get out of the way of flying fists at all costs. He hadn’t even realized he’d thrown his own hands out in front of him until Suga’s fingers were wrapped around them, lowering them from guarding his face. “Dai?” he whispered. All the fight was gone from his friend, plainly replaced by worry._

_“S-sorry,” Daichi gasped. Embarrassment was burning its way onto his cheeks and he tried to pull his hands back, but Suga had an iron grip when he wanted. Tears welled in Daichi’s eyes and, fuck, he was too exposed like this and he practically whimpered as he ducked his head as low as possible._

_“Daichi,” Suga repeated, unwilling to relinquish his hold on Daichi’s trembling fingers. “Are you… Did I scare you?”_

_There was neither judgment in his tone nor scorn on his face, but Daichi found that he did not want to keep Suga’s eye. He shook his head, still tucked to his shoulder, then embarrassed himself further when he flinched as Suga’s hands cupped his face. They were the same height, and he was built bigger than the other man, but Daichi felt as small as a child when he was forced to raise his head. “Someone used to hit you,” Suga surmised._

_He really didn’t want to reveal the mess of his childhood to the man he was falling in love with. “N-No,” he lied. “I’m okay.”  
  
_

  
  


***

  
  
  


Daichi was putting a lot of faith into Akaashi’s protective magic and the ability of pure iron to keep the Fae from hauling off what was soon to be his unprotected body. He supposed if he failed in his next task, however, it didn’t really matter how much protection his body had. And if he failed to bring back Kōshi, he couldn’t say he really cared. 

It was just as Akaashi said: he was going to have to free Suga’s consciousness from the magical thrall he was under. The witch might’ve explained more what that would entail, but Daichi couldn’t blame him since he hadn’t thought to ask. If his understanding of what the Queen said was correct, his own consciousness would be cast into the magical void in which Suga’s was lost. From there he would have to figure it out himself. It wasn’t an explanation he trusted in the slightest considering the sly sneer that had yet to leave the Faerie Queen's lips. 

Not for the first time did Daichi fear how it would turn out. He was made to follow the Queen and Suga from the open-air court back into the palace, made to watch as his partner clung to the creature obediently. It was the look on his face too, that made Daichi want to scream: a smile soft and lacking mischief, the one that he’d worn in their most tender moments. His blood burned at the same time his heart stuttered a nervous rhythm. Not for the first time, not by a long shot, did Daichi worry if he would be enough.

“I think this will be the perfect place,” the Queen announced as they entered a room laden with cushions in brightly woven patterns. Her attendants bustled about at once to arrange the space and she folded to her knees with a flourish of her skirts. She gestured at Diachi to sit across from her, across from where Suga was nestled protectively in her arms. “Make yourself comfortable,” she advised. “It’s not as though any harm will come to you. Not with that disgusting magic wrapped around you.” Part of him was unsure, but Daichi reclined into the pillows, keeping a firm gaze on Suga even though each distrustful glance from the other man felt like a knife.

He heard the Faerie Queen chirp false well wishes, watched Suga’s eyes flutter shut, then Daichi, too, shut his eyes.

  
  
  


*** 

  
  
  
  


By the second day, panic had begun to set in. When Suga hadn’t come home by the end of the first day, Daichi told himself that he must have stayed with Tōru then left town to run errands in the morning. It was over a half day’s ride to the nearest town, so if he’d gone somewhere late, then perhaps he’d gotten distracted and had to stay the night. It was clear when he didn’t return any time during the second day of his disappearance, that something was wrong. No one had seen him, and there was no word about him from their neighboring town either. 

On the third day, Daichi had stopped working and started pacing the woods, and the villagers had started to talk. 

It wasn’t a secret that Suga had come to live there under strange circumstances. In a sleepy town where the most action was someone being injured in a farming accident, it was impossible for talk not to circulate. Just as whispers began to swirl about Suga having been whisked away by the Fae, others began to wonder if he’d simply decided to return to wherever it was he came from. Whatever it was a person believed, they all eyed Daichi with that same, pitying look. He thought that once he determined the most likely culprit for Suga’s disappearance was the Fae that the looks would stop. That they would mobilize to help him. Suga was a beloved member of the community after all. Instead, the worst had occurred: they’d all written him off as dead. He ignored them all with a steadfast set in his jaw, but it didn’t stop the fear that welled just beneath his facade. 

_He’d driven Suga away_.   
  


  
  


***

  
  
  


_“Aren’t you two cute,” Oikawa commented drily._

_Daichi frowned and tightened his grip on the blanket covering him and Suga. “Why are you in my house?” he growled, attempting to sound irritated even if the persistent sleep in his voice defeated him._

_The newly minted village chief rolled his eyes and propped himself against the doorframe of the bedroom. “I’ve been knocking for five minutes! You didn’t answer the door and we have an emergency,” he said. “I thought you’d died in your sleep or something so I let myself in.” He waved a hand at Daichi and the lump under the blankets that was an embarrassed Sugawara. “This was certainly a surprise. Come on, get up; we need to go. Hinata's kid broke his arm.”_

_“Then get out of my room, for fuck’s sake,” Daichi snapped, resisting the urge to curse further at the growing smirk on Oikawa’s face. “And make sure they don’t try to move the arm,” he added at the man’s retreating back. Once he was satisfied at the sound of the shutting door, Daichi dove back under the blankets and murmured, “Suga… you can come out now.”_

_The blond groaned and drew the blanket around his bare shoulders like a cloak as he pushed himself up into sitting. “Everyone’s gonna know now,” Suga squeaked. His red face invited soothing kisses and Daichi obliged, cradling his face in hand and pressing his lips to Suga’s cheek._

_“Does that bother you?” Daichi questioned hesitantly. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the worry: the relationship was new, and, though he hadn’t expected to be able to keep it secret forever, he’d thought there would’ve been more time to gauge how people might respond. Two men- together- were different, and people didn’t readily accept what was different. Their community liked them both well enough separately, though, so Daichi was confident it would be fine. At the worst, it was extremely likely no one would comment on it to them directly, not with Daichi’s position as the only healer since Sensei passed a month ago._

_Thoughtful, Suga dropped his eyes to his lap. “Well, it’s not how I would have liked people to find out,” he muttered._

_Daichi’s heart gave a nervous flutter. “Do you… want to call it off?” he whispered._

_“What? No!” Suga exclaimed right away as he took Daichi’s hands in his. He slumped with relief as Suga continued, “I’m just nervous. I don’t want anyone to treat you any different once more people start finding out.”_

_With a quiet chuckle, Daichi kissed him on the lips and nuzzled his neck before sliding from the bed. Suga let out an appreciative whistle that made Daichi duck his head out of embarrassment as he began to throw on his clothes. “I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.”_

_Suga snorted. “Me? Come on, people already think I’m weird. Being with another man will just be another weird thing about me.”_

_With the final button of his shirt in place, Daichi crawled back over Suga in the bed, caging him between his arms. “But you don’t think this is strange, right? Being together?” he asked. He’d wanted it to be more teasing than it sounded, but it’d come out with the anxiousness he harbored._

_Suga softened and placed a hand on Daichi’s cheek. “Never. You’d better go already. That poor kid is waiting on you.”_

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Daichi blinked at the familiar surroundings. 

He was home, back at the house he shared with Suga. The unusual bracelet was tied to his wrist, but there was no more golden thread. It had changed to white, and he turned around to find his own body asleep in his bed. 

“I suppose you won't have any trouble getting yourself back,” the saccharine voice of the Faerie Queen noted as she reached to rustle the short bangs on his sleeping forehead. 

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. “Why are you even here?” 

She stood to her full height, a head taller than Daichi, and grinned down at him. “I’m here to make sure you don’t get any funny ideas. Like staying here if you fail to convince your man to leave with you. I don’t care to keep you in my court if you aren’t suffering, after all.” 

With an angry huff, the healer stomped from the bedroom and to the front of the house, the Faerie Queen gliding behind. He wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t fail. Akaashi warned that the Fae would make his journey difficult, manipulate his doubts. Daichi couldn’t imagine what that bitch could do, but he wouldn’t let it happen so easily. Confidently he threw open the front door—

And was greeted with a familiar face. 

“Daichi?” Suga gasped. A blood-coated black dagger slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor next to the body by which he knelt. 

Daichi drew up short after a few stuttering steps, and hesitated. The two shared a wide-eyed stare. When he’d met Daichi’s gaze, Kōshi’s eyes had already been glittering with tears, and they spilled over his cheeks as he looked down at his bloody hands and back up to Daichi. It wasn’t the town around them, but a dimly lit room with wooden floors and exquisite furniture. On trembling knees Daichi made his way around the body and sank to his knees. “Kōshi,” he breathed, taking the other man’s slick fingers in his hands. 

Suga tugged his hands back into his lap to clench the stained fabric of his pants. “You shouldn’t be here! You—” His hazel eyes, which had been darting around to everything but Daichi’s face, landed up on the Faerie Queen and narrowed. “What are you doing here?” he spat. 

“Overseeing,” she answered. “ _Daichi_ and I have a wager. Why are you lost in such wretched thoughts, _Kōshi?_ ” Both winced at the usage of their names which had slipped from their tongues. 

“I’m bringing you back home,” Daichi asserted, though a shiver ran through him when Suga turned a fearful gaze back on him. 

“What did you wager?” the ashen man whispered, ignoring the Queen’s question. 

The Queen stepped over the body of Suga’s victim, though no blood transferred to her skirts. Kōshi flinched as she brushed a claw over his cheek. “If he’s unsuccessful in bringing you back to your body he’s agreed to stay and serve me. Well, to watch your shell of a body serve me, anyway.”

Daichi closed his eyes to the stricken expression on Kōshi’s face. “Dai,” he cried. “Why would you—”

“Suga, let’s just go,” Daichi interrupted. “Where did you wake up when you first came here?” 

The blond man buried his face into the crook of his arm and moaned, “I can’t just walk out! Of all the-! She’s not gonna let me leave.”

The creature in question dug her fingers into Suga’s cheeks and turned his head to her glowering face. “If he succeeds, he wins,” she intoned. “I don’t plan to let you go easily, but I keep my word.” 

“Let go of him,” Daichi hissed. She turned her narrowed black eyes at him, but after a moment released his partner. Daichi took a deep breath, then repeated, softer, “Suga, where did you wake up?”

“At home,” he sniffled. Daichi nodded and leapt to his feet, pulling Suga along with him. He let his eyes flick to the body on the floor, and the black dagger beside it, and Suga flinched when their eyes met again. His lips parted, but nothing came from him. There were a million questions Daichi wanted to ask, but he pushed them aside as he was accustomed in favor of saying, “That should be easy; so did I. We’ll just go back the way I came.” 

The white thread beckoned them back to the door through which he’d come, but he should’ve known it wouldn’t be so simple based on the sly grin on the Faerie Queen’s face. Holding one of Suga’s bloody hands, Daichi pulled open the door, expecting to see their home. 

What they stepped into instead was Daichi’s childhood bedroom. 

He recoiled, his fingers slipping from Suga’s but the door behind them had become a wall and the Faerie Queen had disappeared. 

“You little son of a bitch,” screamed a voice, furious and cold. Without looking, Daichi knew he would find himself, twelve years old, under the bed he shared with his younger brother, and in moments his father would storm through the curtain that was their door. On cue came the monster of a man Daichi remembered, red-faced with rough hands as large as a child’s head. He wrestled a screaming boy across the floor. 

“Daichi,” Suga whispered, hazel eyes round with shock. 

“You think you have any right to be angry at me?” his father roared while his son swung ineffective fists. Larger hands caught the smaller Daichi’s hands and jerked them to his sides. In the second of stillness, his father’s hands wrapped around his throat. “I give you a roof; I give you food! You don’t get to disrespect me! Say it!”

With the last of his breath, the boy wheezed, “I-I’m s-sorry,” and Daichi whimpered at the memory of his vision darkening around the edges. The noise drew the crazed eyes of his father. “I should’ve done the world a favor and choked the life out of you then,” his father seethed, rising to his feet. Young and old, Daichi struggled to catch his breath. 

“S-Stop it!” Suga interjected, throwing his body between Daichi and his father. “Daichi, this isn’t real! The door—!” His words left him in a yelp as a fist connected with his face and sent him staggering into Daichi’s chest. 

“Suga?” Daichi whispered when he realized he was holding aloft his partner who sported a very real busted lip. 

“The door,” Suga sputtered through a mouthful of blood. “We gotta keep moving.” 

“You’re not going anywhere, _boy_ ,” his father roared. “You’ll stay here until I say you can go!”

Wide and fearful, Daichi’s eyes darted between Suga’s and his father’s, then settled on his younger self. He knew he’d find fear and hatred in his eyes. He knew he was wishing the man was dead, wishing he could fight back, wishing he could _do something_ to help himself. Daichi clenched his fists still frozen, because given the chance and the strength, he would always be the boy on the floor. 

Suga gripped his wrist and dragged him across the room, even as he tried in a panic to free himself. His father hurled obscenities at him, but Daichi was blessed with silence when Suga pulled them through the curtain. Surrounded by a twilight forest, Daichi crumpled to all fours, fingers ripping at the grass, and screamed. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


“You won’t have all the time in the world. Don’t get lost,” Akaashi warned from his doorway. 

Daichi stopped fiddling with the new bracelet on his wrist and shot the other man a confused frown. “It wasn’t that far to the village,” he recalled, but the witch just shook his head. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
He didn’t know how long he heaved in the musty scent of dirt and grass and decaying leaves, but finally Daichi’s sobs subsided into gasps. Long enough that eventually Suga’s tentative hand fluttered to his shoulder. To his credit, he didn’t flinch, but a shiver worked its way down his back. He sat up and eyed his partner with insecure eyes. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Kōshi asked. There was hurt in his face. “I mean, I figured- I _knew_ , but you never said anything…” 

Daichi grimaced and squeezed a fistful of grass. “How am I supposed to put that into words?” he ground out. 

“I don’t know, maybe, ‘Hey Suga, my dad was a fucking bastard and beat the shit out of me?’” Suga retorted. “I’ve asked before, but you didn’t say anything.”

“We hadn’t even known each other that long. I couldn’t just—” 

“We’ve been together for almost four years!” Suga snapped before taking a sharp, deep breath. He continued in a softer voice, “I’ve been careful never to shout like that again, but it would’ve been nice to hear the reason for it.” 

Daichi ducked his head, and the words left his mouth before he could think, “You never told me why you showed up with an arrow in your shoulder.” Kōshi stared at him, lips falling open and a red flush spreading on his cheeks. Before he could reply Daichi pressed on, “Why were you killing someone when I first got here?”

“Do we really need to do this now?” Kōshi hissed. “We need to get out of here!”

“So you can ask about—“ he cut himself off with a frustrated growl. Scowling, Daichi lifted his wrist and shook the white thread leading into the trees. “Fine! We’re going!” he huffed as he lurched to his feet and chased the thread. He heard Suga shuffling behind, muttering something under his breath. 

They were spared further conversation when a person sprinted by, followed by a sing-song cry of, “Quit runnin’, little crow!”

Suga seized Daichi by the sleeve, and when Daichi turned his partner was wearing a fearful grimace that dissolved his anger. “Suga, was that—“

“Yes,” the ashen haired man whispered, as a figure clad in black burst through the undergrowth wielding an enormous bow. Whistling cheerily, the person sprinted ahead then planted the bow into the ground. He drew an arrow as long as Daichi’s arm from his quiver, took quick aim and released. The high pitched cry that followed saw them both wince. At once Daichi pursued the attacker through the woods, ignoring Suga’s pleas to wait. 

“Ya didn’t think you were going to get away with that, did ya?” the man called as he stalked the trail of blood through the trees. “Ya can’t just kill Kurosu-san and expect nothin’ to happen!”

The pair inched closer, and Daichi could make out the sound of labored breathing and a familiar voice which denied, “D-Dunno what you’re talking about.” 

Daichi was close enough to make out a fox-faced mask on the attacker’s face, but despite the coverage he could hear the grin in their voice as they drawled, “It’d be really helpful if ya’d tell me who hired you. I’d be willin’ to off ya faster.” 

The Suga who Daichi barely recognized, the one sprawled on his side clutching the head of an arrow, spat in the direction of their pursuer and hissed something under his breath. “Hm? Didn’t catch that,” the assassin smirked as he drew a knife and knelt. The pack Suga had been found with was tossed aside, the contents strewn about the grass, except for…

In a blink Suga lunged to his feet and the dagger sliced across the man’s stomach. The professional lost his balance in an attempt to recoil, but he still managed to block Suga’s next attack and send the dagger flying into the brush. “Nice try,” he admitted as he clutched the wound in his stomach. Grunting, Suga gripped the blood-slick arrow in both hands and snapped the long head from the shaft. The assassin moved, but not quick enough to avoid Suga entirely. He stabbed the arrow head into the man’s side and twisted. 

A howl of pain erupted from the attacker and Suga scrambled back, searching for his weapon but the other man was pursuing no more. “Inarizaki will hunt ya to the ends of the Earth, ya son of a bitch,” he wheezed. “There’s nowhere to hide that we won’t find ya!” 

With those parting words the man limped back from they’d come, leaving Suga alone with the two onlookers. Daichi turned to Suga- _his_ Suga- and found that his face was contorted into a look of loathing. It broke his heart all over again, and he reached out to take his partner’s hand. At first Kōshi tensed, his fingers still curled into a fist. Gradually, he softened and their hands entwined. The Suga of then had carefully repacked his things and begun walking. 

“I wasn’t an assassin or anything like that,” Kōshi remarked after a moment of watching himself stagger towards the future. “I just gathered and sold information for people who could pay for it. But that day…” He curled his lip at the memory. “It didn’t go over in my favor. Long story short, I was found out, and when it came down to someone else’s life or mine, I picked mine. Over and over. My whole life that’s all I did was selfish, self-serving bullshit.” 

“Kōshi,” Daichi interrupted. “That’s not who you are, though. Do you think it is?”

His partner turned his hazel eyes toward him. “I don’t know,” Kōshi confessed. “Isn’t it? What do I actually do for you, Daichi? Or for anyone? Those first few months after you guys saved me, I had to fake everything. I didn’t know how to be a genuine person; I don’t think I’d ever had a real conversation with someone in my life. There are days I still feel like I’m just going through the motions, and it was terrifying because I knew you’d figure it out one day. That you’d see me for what I am: a fake, selfish, _empty_ person!”

Daichi drew Kōshi to his chest and squeezed. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong,” he whispered into starlight hair. 

“You know what the worst part is? I know how terrible I am, and I still expect the best from you! After so many years I couldn’t even tell you,” Suga’s muffled, wavering voice replied. “I can’t be mad that you didn’t tell me about your stuff when I couldn’t tell you how I came here.” 

“Yes, you can,” Daichi argued. “You can be mad at me all you want. I mean, I’m kinda… mad too, but I get it. This is a lot. But I didn’t tell you about me because it felt like a lot, too.” It was a struggle to admit anger, but he wasn’t his dad and Kōshi wasn’t either. 

After a few moments of sniffling tears by them both, Kōshi sighed and pushed himself from Daichi’s chest with a watery smile. “This is going to need a lot of talking through. Preferably when we’re not lost in a magical void at the mercy of a temperamental Fae. Agree to shelf it for now?” 

Daichi nodded, and the comment prompted him to raise his wrist, from where the glowing white thread still protruded. “Does it look thinner to you?” he asked. 

Suga touched it. The taut magic bounced but didn’t break. “Maybe? We should probably hurry.” In quiet agreement they pressed on, but their feet carried them only a few steps before the trees became the walls of their village. Their eyes went immediately to where their home stood, but there was nothing there. There was, in fact, only one building which stood: the healer’s workplace. Daichi chewed his lip and tried to stave off the trepidation that grew with each step. 

“Ready?” Daichi asked of his partner when they’d traced the thread to the building’s front door.  
  
Suga inhaled, long and shaky. “Yeah,” he exhaled. “Let’s go.” 

Daichi opened the door. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


_Kōshi skirted the edge of the town proper on his way back home from Oikawa’s house. It wasn’t as if he and Daichi never fought, but it wasn’t the knock-down affair in which some couple’s argued. Their arguments were the slow death of a conversation between two people scared to speak their minds. He wasn’t even sure when they’d begun tiptoeing around each other’s feelings, but there they were: a few implied and unanswered questions or passive-aggressive barbs, one or both of them shutting down, and tears. Kōshi rubbed at his red eyes as if it would help disguise that he’d been crying._

_“H-help m-m-me!”_

_Kōshi started, clutching his arms around himself as he searched wide-eyed for the source of the plea. The voice, definitely a child’s, had come from the woods. He took a step toward the trees, then paused. He’d heard of things like this happening only to be a lure for the unsuspecting. A Fae trick. Kōshi grit his teeth and turned back to the village, but the voice squeaked in terror and cried, “Can anyone h-hear me? I’m lost!”_

_Vacillating with one foot on the path and the other towards the woods, Kōshi chewed at his lip. What if it wasn’t a trick? It was completely believable that one of the few village kids would have done something wild like venture out at twilight. If it was legitimate and he didn’t do something, Kōshi wasn’t sure he could live with himself. He’d sworn to be different, hadn’t he?_

_And if it was the Fae, well. Surely he could handle a couple Fae._

_Kōshi set his shoulders and tore off into the forest._

  
  
  


***

  
  


When the pair stepped across the threshold, they did so into Oikawa’s house, where the Faerie Queen sat at the table, an unseen visitor, with a conversing Tōru and Kōshi. The smile she offered them was icy. “You’re doing well,” she acknowledged. “For now.” 

Daichi couldn’t help a triumphant smirk, but when he turned to his partner, he saw that Kōshi was pale. “Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know what I should do,” answered the Suga at the table. 

Daichi turned to look at his partner crying with Tōru’s hands clasped around his shoulders. He recognized this Suga. “Was this the day you never came back?” he whispered. 

“Daichi, let’s go,” the man replied, but he sounded frantic in a way that made Daichi balk. 

“We can’t talk about anything anymore! It’s like somehow we built up this wall and I don’t know how to get over it anymore,” Suga sobbed. “When we talk, I know he’s not telling me everything, and I’m scared to ask what he’s holding back! Sometimes I can't even tell if we actually love each other or if we’re just together because we don’t know how to leave.” 

Daichi lowered his eyes to his feet, unable suddenly to find his breath. “You can’t keep on in the middle like this,” Tōru worried. “I hate seeing you so stressed out all the time.” 

“That’s how you feel about us?” Daichi asked, unable, afraid to lift his eyes. His chest was too tight, unwilling to expand so he could breathe, and his skin was too hot. Every doubt, every fear: spirits above, he’d been so stupid. Of course. _Of course._ What they’d just talked about on the other side of the door: Kōshi admitted he’d been going through the motions, hadn’t he?

“No! Daichi, you have to listen to me,” Suga pleaded, reaching for his hand. Daichi shrugged his arm out of reach. “D-Daichi, I know how this sounds, but you have to believe me when—“

“How can I!” he exclaimed. “You don’t even know if you love me!”

A series of expressions flashed across his partner’s face: fear, hurt, frustration. “That’s not what I meant,” Suga growled. “You seem to forget that you’ve been holding things in too! You couldn’t stand that I hadn’t told you about my past, could you? You were just too scared to ever tell me to my face!”

Daichi’s knees trembled and nearly gave. He shoved his face into his hands, taking a blind, panicked step away from the scene unfolding. “Were you going to leave that night?” he blurted. 

“No!” Suga gasped, but Daichi wasn’t hearing it. “I love you! Just _listen to me_ —“

Daichi turned, against the string of magic and away from Kōshi. He turned, opened a door, and slammed it shut behind him. 

He wasn’t exactly sure where he was at; he was in a stretch of the woods indistinguishable from any other. His fingers squeezed at his chest, still rising far too shallow. He knelt, gasping. 

“I suppose you found your answer,” the Faerie Queen said, somewhere above him, behind, around. Daichi couldn’t budge his swimming gaze from the forest floor to find out. “You weren’t enough, just like you thought. And it’s no surprise, is it? How could something that beautiful love something so broken?”

“Shut up,” Daichi whispered. He pressed his palms over his ears but her voice was an infection working through his mind. 

“You failed him before you ever came to the Fae,” she continued. “You failed him here too. I’m curious to see how you’ll grow to hate him as you spend the rest of your life here, watching me play with him.” 

He whimpered, a soft plea. He’d never deserved to be with Kōshi, or anyone, not if he couldn’t do something so simple as speaking his mind. It made sense that Kōshi had grown tired of and disappointed in a closed off relationship. It’s what Daichi has seen all along, after all, and been too afraid to confront. It had been selfish on his part to ignore it just to keep a person who didn’t want to be there.

 _I should’ve done the world a favor,_ the voice of his father echoed. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


“Don’t get lost.” 

_Don’t get lost._

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The white magic on his wrist pulsed insistently. Daichi lifted his weary head from his knees; the thread was barely thicker than spider silk. He wondered how much longer it would hold. 

Louder than before, her voice grated on his ears. “I can’t wait for that snap,” the Faerie Queen crooned. 

Annoyance flickered across his face, and another voice, blessedly familiar, rang out, “Are you going to sit there and let this bitch win without a fight?” 

Daichi snapped to attention as Kōshi dragged himself from around a tree. There was a limp to his step now, and he still sported the bruised lip from their spiritual encounter with Daichi’s father, but it was him unmistakably. Kōshi wore a wistful grin while he took in the sight of Daichi curled in on himself. “That doesn’t sound like the man I know.” 

“How’d you find me?” Daichi rasped. 

“I have tried _so_ many doors,” Suga laughed colorlessly. “One of them had to lead to you. Come on, Daichi. Let’s go home.”

With a glimmer of irritation in her ethereal face, the Faerie Queen stepped out between them. “He doesn’t want to go,” she hissed.

Suga had the audacity to laugh in her face. Emotion welled in Daichi’s eyes. He shook his head. “I don’t want to be selfish,” he mumbled. 

“Our place is together,” Suga proclaimed softly, sidestepping the Fae and rushing to Daichi’s side. “You’re not being selfish.” 

An uncertain hopefulness swelled in his chest, but Daichi murmured, “I’m not good enough for you, Suga. I’m too fucked up to even _talk—“_

“Daichi, neither of us is perfect. Obviously. And I think maybe that’s okay. You should see the rest of that memory,” Kōshi interrupted. The idea made him wince but Suga took his hands and looked imploringly in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” 

There was too much that had occurred today. Weariness was bone deep and his heart was heavy with despair. 

And still, the answer came tumbling from his lips without hesitation: “Yes,” Daichi whispered before allowing Suga to pull him to his feet. 

The Faerie Queen’s face contorted into a furious scowl and she shouted, “You cannot! You—“

“We can,” Suga replied with an urgent hand at Daichi’s back. Unwilling to touch him so near to Daichi’s magic, the Fae hovered behind but was far from silent. Every doubt of Daichi’s that had already been manipulated and rubbed raw she continued to prod, but Kōshi’s grip on his waist was like armor. “Don’t listen to her,” Suga urged him as he led them after the weak white thread to a door among the trees.

“Do you actually think he’ll give you the life you want?” she hissed, turning her attention to Suga. “I’ve seen the arguments and tears and pain! Have you had one unhappy day here? I will always give you everything you want!” 

“It isn’t real,” Suga whispered, more to himself than in response, as he walked them through the door.

Tōru was gazing thoughtfully at Suga as he sniffled into his hands. “Do you _actually_ think you’re not in love with him anymore?”

It was the first thing they heard, and it tied Daichi’s stomach in tighter knots in an instant. Suga shot him another pleading look, and repeated, “Trust me?”

So Daichi listened, and Suga- the one from before- sighed, the sound almost a laugh. “Of course not,” he replied. “I’ve never loved anything so much in my life. I’m just scared _he_ doesn’t feel that way anymore. I don’t even know what I’d do with myself if he didn’t.” 

“You’re so stupid,” Tōru informed, flicking the back of Suga’s head. “He looks at you like you hung the stars when you’re not looking. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the same.” Suga flushed and looked a cross between pleased and annoyed. Before he could talk, Tōru added, “If that’s how you feel then you need to saddle up and _talk_ to him. About _everything_ , even the stuff that hurts. Especially the stuff that hurts. And if he doesn’t accept that, then at least you tried.” 

“But it’s scary,” Suga complained. 

“Oh, don’t be such a fucking baby,” Tōru chastised. “Get the hell out of my house and go talk to Daichi before the night is over. And I don't want to see you again until you do.”

At the table, Suga rubbed his red-rimmed eyes, still wet with tears, and let a small smile work it’s way onto his face. Daichi turned wide eyes to the Kōshi beside him, who offered the same gentle smile. “I was on my way home,” he whispered. “I’m sorry we never got to talk.” 

Like he was handling something precious, Daichi cupped Suga’s cheek. There were tears flowing freely again from his overworked eyes, but they were more sweet than bitter. “I’m sorry too,” he cried. “I never wanted to pull away from you; I was scared.”

Suga sputtered a weak laugh from behind his own tears. He pressed into Daichi’s palm and covered his hand with his own. “Let’s talk when we get home.”

“Okay.”

Daichi raised his wrist and shook it, the magic thread rippling across the short space between them and Tōru’s front door. The Faerie Queen had vanished, and hand in hand, they opened the door into their own bedroom. It was strange to see himself, curled up on their bed, but Daichi heaved a cry of relief to see he wasn’t alone. They separated, crossed to their respective sides and shared a hopeful look.

“Thanks for coming for me,” Suga grinned. As he touched his own shoulder, he disappeared from Daichi’s sight. Eager to follow, he did the same. 

The cushioned room in which he’d fallen asleep in was empty when Daichi blinked. A moment later the air was taken from his lungs when Kōshi, clad in blue silk, threw himself against his chest. “This is real- _you’re_ real,” Kōshi choked out. 

Daichi laughed into his starlight hair and squeezed him like he would disappear if he didn’t. “I missed you,” he said. For a moment they relished the weight of each other’s bodies until Daichi remembered the second bracelet. Hastily he pulled it from his pocket and tied it to his partner’s wrist. “Don’t ever take it off,” he ordered. 

Suga held aloft his wrist and admired the golden thread of magic that glowed to life. “I want to hear the story behind this,” he marveled. 

“If you’re quite done, I want you to leave this realm.” 

Both swiveled to see the Faerie Queen at the door wearing an impassive frown. The two men darted to their feet. “We’re going,” Daichi advised cautiously, expecting pushback. 

The Fae rolled her eyes and gestured them to follow. “You’ve won our wager and I keep my word,” she stated simply. “However, you should leave before I lose my composure and make it difficult for you to do so.” 

With every bit of haste, they rushed from the Summer Court if the Fae. It seemed she hadn’t lied about wanting them gone, because the forest was oddly compliant, their path straight. In a fraction of the time it had taken him to reach the palace, Daichi and Suga bid farewell to the emerald sun of the Fae realm. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


_Daichi couldn’t help the broad grin on his face as Tōru spoke to the gathered crowd, “Sawamura Daichi and Sugawara Kōshi have chosen to commit to each other for this year and hopefully many more with this handfasting. Love is ever-changing but the connection of two souls is eternal. I speak for us all when I say I have seen the evidence of their connection in these last two years.”_

_Gripping Daichi’s forearm tightly, Kōshi matched him with the fervor of his smile._ **_I love you_ ** _, he mouthed._

_“With these vows, you are committing to be a partner to one another, to honor this connection,” Tōru continued. “These vows are not easily broken. Do you still intend to enter into this commitment?”_

_“Yes,” they agreed._

_Tōru stuck his tongue out at them, earning a giggle from Suga and an eye roll from Daichi. With deft fingers he wound the fabric around their wrists and hands. “Then I will outline the vows to which you commit, and you’ll acknowledge your agreement. First, will you share in each other’s pain and promise to ease the other from it?”_

_“I will,” they answered._

_“Will you share in each other’s joys and look for the best in them?”_

_“I will.”_

_“Will you promise to treat each other as partners and equals, with respect and honor?”_

_“I will.”_

_“Most importantly, will you share in each other’s every hardship and struggle, so that together you both will grow?”_

_They shared hopeful looks and agreed, “I will.”_

_Tōru laid a palm on their bound hands. “Then let the two be bound,” he announced, and they drew their hands apart to seal their commitment in a knot._

_“Always,” Daichi promised._

_“Forever,” Kōshi agreed._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Again, if you’ve got thoughts about the format, lay it on me! I can take it :)


End file.
